


The Way You Make Me Feel

by FmPdx



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Butch Kara AU, F/F, Minor Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer, olympic au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-03-24 06:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13805037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FmPdx/pseuds/FmPdx
Summary: Kara Danvers plays hockey for the US Women's team.Lena Luthor is a figure skater.They're both at the 2018 Olympics in PyeongChang looking to make their dreams come true.Maybe some cute stuff's gonna happen.I drew a thing... then I decided to write a thing too. Hope y'all enjoy.





	1. Right Place, Right Time

**OPENING CEREMONIES - Kara**

 

The gloves are ridiculous. Custer’s questionable last stand on an outfit that is, for the most part, pretty comfortable. And let’s be honest, these jeans are doing her ass some serious favors, that’s for sure. But at least she’s warm.

And considering how cold it is tonight here in PyeongChang, warmth is welcome. Kara lets out an involuntary yawn. She’s standing in the staging area waiting for the line to move forward as a few thousand athletes filter into the huge stadium. Alphabetical order by nation, 88 flags waving, countless smiles broad and proud. It’s an orderly type of chaos, and so much more familiar the second time around. 

Her stomach had been doing backflips during the opening ceremonies in Sochi, but four years later it’s completely still. Not to say there isn’t a palpable current running through her. There is. It’s just tempered by knowledge, an understanding of how this big machine works. 

Kara glances over at her sister and smiles. God, what is it like to go through a process like this without someone like Alex? Or without her whole team for that matter? Her eyes wander a sea of red, white, and navy. Team USA stretches out before her. Pretty much every athlete is here with at least one coach, but that’s not always the same kind of support you get from a sibling, or even a team full of peers.

Their time comes and it’s all smiles, shameless selfies, and waving to countless television cameras. Kara sends a few video messages of her and Alex off to Eliza back home. It’ll be something nice for their mom to wake up to tomorrow, given the time difference. She also managed to snapchat some pics of cute snowboarder boys to her pals Winn and James back in National City, because what gay man doesn’t want pics of Gus Kenworthy blowing them a kiss? 

It’s a beautiful ceremony. All fireworks and substance, with such a strong undercurrent of hope. She’s a grown woman, surrounded by her teammates as well as athletes from so many other nations, but all at once Kara Danvers is a kid again, staying up a little too late, television flickering in the dark living room of her parent’s Midvale home, blanket wrapped snug around her shoulders, eyes tearing up as the torch is lit and the games begin, all while Alex snores softly behind her on the sofa. 

All those years ago she dreamed of getting here… and now here she is, a two time Olympian.

After the ceremony concludes, the athletes make their way down the stadium steps. Her team is going to meet for breakfast in the early AM and then head to the hockey complex to run practice drills and get some time on the ice.

She’s thinking intently of bacon when there is a loud yelp behind her. Kara pivots just in time to see a pair of panicked green eyes and two arms flailing. She reaches out, all instinct, hands finding the waist of the woman tumbling towards her. Kara manages to stop the woman’s momentum, twisting both their bodies like she intentionally meant to dip her, the two of them a pair of ballroom dancers practicing a well known move. 

And it’s then the other woman’s face comes into focus.

She just caught Lena Luthor. 

Figure skater. 

Bronze medalist in Sochi. 

Silver medalist at the 2017 World’s. 

Kara’s seen her on TV, watched her compete, she even managed to catch Lena’s short program between games four years ago. But she never dreamed she’d be this close, holding her. 

Her heart is rattling in her chest. She wonders if the woman in her arms can hear it.

When their eyes finally meet, Kara’s brain short circuits and all she can manage is a soft, “Ma’am,” as she tips Lena back to a standing position. 

Cheeks flushed, Lena exhales sharply and stutters out something that sounds like a thank you before hiding her face behind two thick, garishly fringed gloves. She makes a speedy exit through the dense crowd.

“Uhmmm. Did I hear that right?”Alex bumps a dumbstruck Kara with an elbow. ”Did you just ma’am Lena Luthor?”

She bites her lip as Alex snorts.

“Smooth, Danvers. Smooth.” 

  
  
  


**PRACTICE RINK - Lena**

 

She’s praying the rink is empty. 

It’s not performance anxiety. Not in the slightest. It’s more of a strong desire to be alone. 

The village is a swirling soup of energy. The hopes and dreams of so many people, and more than a few anxieties, if she’s not careful those feeling will press against her walls, seep in, damage her resolve. She has to keep her guard up. Stay focused on the competition at hand. 

Her focus has been sharper lately, thanks to dissolving the complicated mother/coach relationship she had with Lillian. Lena laughs to herself, gloved hand tightening on the strap of her duffel. Lillian, always the taskmaster. She recognizes now their arrangement wasn’t healthy. 

Aspects of that paradigm are so heavily ingrained in her they feel impossible to alter. A part of her feels like she has to at least acknowledge, maybe even thank, her mother for instilling in her a fierce work ethic, a drive, a desire to perfect her skills. But unattainable perfection was never a road to happiness. She sees that now, even if happy feels like a far off shore she’ll never walk upon. 

It’s been so different working with Sam Arias. Her unwavering support has thrown Lillian’s tantrums and tirades in stark relief. 

She still finds herself expecting a disapproving glare after every tumble, every jump off the wrong edge, every downgraded combination. But Sam only smiles and encourages her on. “You’ll get it next time. No worries.” It’s all new to Lena and for some reason she can’t help but wait for some kind of inevitable backslide, like bracing for a slap across the face.

She’s already been up in her own head enough she almost face-planted at the opening ceremony. She doesn’t need to keep getting in her own way. 

Lena shakes the thoughts from her mind and pushes through the tinted glass double doors of the practice rink and her stomach flip flops. Music is playing. Pop music. Maybe Adam’s here. That wouldn’t be so bad. He’s been nothing but gracious to her. But it’s also two in the morning and even he should be getting some sleep with the team competition starting today. 

As she makes her way down the steps towards the barrier wall, Lena watches the form gliding across the dimly lit rink. It’s no one she can recognize from this distance. Their movements are fluid, not very refined, but even still their footwork is solid, and their speed is impressive. She can’t help but keep her eyes locked on the skater’s broad shoulders, the taper of their form, their short golden hair dampened by sweat. Lena wonders how long they’ve been here. It’s voyeuristic to keep staring like this, mesmerized by toned thighs flexing under close fitting athletic pants. They make a quick pass along the close side of the rink, hair flopping in the wind generated by their speed, and Lena’s quietly grateful for this anonymous eye-candy, even if she still can’t recognize the skater. They come to a stop, resting broad hands on their hips, Lena is quietly appreciating the stranger’s strong build when something doesn’t compute. 

Lena’s brain throws an error message. 

Their skates are just… wrong. 

Bulky, unfamiliar. 

Lena stands to get a better look, stepping carefully over her duffle. She leans against the barrier, intrigued expression plastered on her face. Are those hockey skates?

Her movement is obviously noticed. The skater on the ice skids to a sharp stop. 

“Oh hey! Hi. I am _so_ sorry,” shouts a distinctly feminine voice, “Didn’t think anyone else would be up.”

The sandy haired woman glides over to a small speaker balanced on the barrier not far from Lena. After turning the music down, she flashes Lena a devastating, and somehow knowing grin. It catches Lena off-guard as she feels herself unconsciously return the gesture. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Lena’s brow furrows. “Again?”

She’s met this woman before? No. Can’t be true. She would have remembered those eyes. 

“Yeah. The opening ceremony.” There is a pause, a sweet laugh, and a nervous hand rushing up to scruff her close cropped hair. “You tripped. Going down the steps. You were falling. I… I uh… I was the one who caught you.”

Lena feels a blush creep up her throat, working its way to her cheeks at a rapid pace. “Oh,” she says dumbly.

“Yeah.” The other woman skates closer, she drapes herself casually over the short wall separating them. “I had a beanie on. I looked very cool. And I definitely did not call you ma’am.”

It sounds like flirting. Maybe. Lena can’t be sure. All her cognitive ability is currently fighting an almost crippling flight response.  _ Just push past it, Luthor. Come on. _

Lena swallows hard. Willing the words out. “I… I’m really sorry.”

“For falling? People fall. It happens.”

“I guess,” Lena sighs, feeling clumsy and foolish all over again. “I’m still sorry. Could have hurt both of us.”

“We’re all good, though. No harm done.” 

Lena becomes keenly aware of blue eyes, and full lips, and an overwhelming sense of confidence radiating off this woman. No, that’s not it. She can’t find the right word. What is it? She’s heard Sam use it before when talking about actors or actresses she has crushes on.  _ Swagger _ ? Lena gets distracted as dark blue sleeves are pushed up, revealing toned forearms. The fabric clings to a muscular frame. Her breath catches, an involuntary admission of interest. God, she is terrible at this.

“Kinda glad it happened, if I’m honest.”

“Yeah?” Lena crosses her arms. “And why’s that?”

Her grin turns sly. “It’s not every day you get to hold Lena Luthor.”

Lena doesn’t answer. She can barely think. Yup. This is what being flirted with feels like. She takes this moment to turn away and step out onto the ice, only allowing herself the briefest of seconds to compose herself before skating towards the other woman. Their scale difference becomes all the more evident as the space between them decreases. She’s so broad. So tall. A presence that is balanced between masculine and feminine. It’s a compelling combination.

She cannot give as good as she’s getting, but she does sense a slight unease the closer she gets. “So... at what point in this charming back and forth do I get to know  _ your _ name?”

Cheeks flush a vibrant shade of pink and there it is again, that smile. Bright like the sun. 

She reaches out a sturdy hand. “Kara Danvers. US Women’s Hockey.”

The music playing softly somehow swells at the very moment they touch. Lena doesn’t recognize the song, she’s never heard it before, she doesn’t realize she’ll be humming that tune under her breath in the coming days, fondly remembering the warmth of Kara’s touch on her skin. “Thank you, Ms. Danvers.”

Kara’s head tilts, brows knitting. “For what?” 

“Not letting me fall.”

  
  
  
  


**ATHLETE’S CAFETERIA - Kara**

 

Breakfast is the best damn meal of the day. Kara could literally eat it all the time. What’s not to love? There are so many options. You say you like savory stuff? Got ya covered. Maybe you like sweet things? That’s cool too. Breakfast will not let you down. 

She’s on her second plate of eggs and bacon when Alex plops down across from her at the table, bleary eyed, steaming mug of coffee in hand. “What time did you get in last night?”

“This morning.” Kara corrects her sister through a mouth full of food. 

Alex narrows her eyes, confused. “How are you functioning, let alone smiling?”

Kara shrugs, grin growing wide, focus on her plate, fork stabbing at a mound of fluffy scrambled eggs. She glances up and her sister is still staring at her from over the top of her coffee mug. They are joined by a few more teammates. Maggie Sawyer plants a kiss on top of Alex’s head and slips into a chair next to her.

“How’s the jet lag treating you, Danverses?”

Alex takes a pointed sip of coffee, then gestures towards Kara. “Me, shitty. But that one over there is living la vida 3 hours of sleep.”

“Up all night flirting with Lena Luthor?”

Kara nearly chokes.

“Yeah. Word travels fast in the village, kiddo.”

The shift for exhausted grump to enthusiastic big sister is so quick it nearly gives Kara whiplash. Alex kicks her leg under the table. “What the hell, Kara. How? Where? Why am I just hearing about this?”

“You were asleep.” Kara shrugs. It becomes clear that response was not what Alex wanted, because Kara’s plate of bacon and eggs is swiped from under her. “Oh come on, Alex!”

“Details,” Her sister barks. “You’ve had a schoolgirl crush on her since you were a kid. You buy every magazine she’s ever even mentioned in. You DVR her competitions. You made me get ESPN2 -- ”

“I have a completely professional and totally objective interest in her career.”

Maggie coughs into her elbow, but it sounds more like her masking the word “Bullshit.” 

“You, Kara Danvers, have a giant crush on Lena Luthor.” Alex is still holding her plate just out of reach. “Admit it.”

Arms crossed, Kara asks, “If I admit it, do I get my eggs back?”

“Sure.”

She can feel heat radiating from her cheeks and the tips of her ears. “Fine,” she says softly, “I have a crush on her.”

“Boom.” Vindicated, Alex slides Kara’s breakfast back into place.

Maggie lets out a bark of delight and casually drapes an arm over Alex’s shoulders. “You know, they say admitting you have a problem is the first step.”

“It’s not a problem.” She can feel herself getting defensive, she sets her fork down and lets herself slouch into her chair. “And it’s not like anything’s gonna come from it. She really nice, but she’s here to get a medal, not hook up with some hockey homo.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short, Danvers.” Maggie steals a piece of bacon off Kara’s discarded plate. “You’re not  _ some _ hockey homo, you’re  **the** hockey homo.”

“Thanks, Mags.”

“No problem, sunshine.” She takes a pointed bite of bacon and smiles wide.

Alex sets her empty mug down and leans in close. “So? I’m still waiting for details.”

“We… we just ran into each other. I don’t know what to tell you. I wasn’t tired. So I went to the rink to skate --”

Maggie frowns, visibly confused. “What was Lena doing at the hockey rink?”

Kara averts her gaze. 

Alex kicks Kara’s leg under the table again. “Oh, you shit. You were at the figure skating practice rink weren’t you? Sneaky sneaky.”

A guilty grin spreads across Kara’s face but tries her best to look aloof. “I just wanted a different atmosphere.”

“Uh huh.” Alex smirks. “And if you happen to run into a pretty girl --”

Kara cuts her sister off. “At two in the morning?”

Alex waves off the caveat. “Sure. Sure. Run into a pretty girl at two in the morning… who’s to say what might happen. It’s a magical time. We’re at the Olympics. Chasing that gold medal. Anything is possible.”

Kara’s mind wanders back to only a few hours ago, earlier this morning, sharing the ice with her long time crush. Lena was so personable, a little nervous. Their conversation was polite, fun even, and if Kara allowed herself to believe it, more than a bit flirtatious. She caught Lena eyeing her more than a few times before she finally had to call it a night. 

Maggie swipes the last piece of bacon. “Where’d you leave it?”

Kara stretches, barely able to believe she was so forward. “I… uh… I invited her to come watch practice.”

Maggie and Alex stare back at her with dumbstruck expressions. 

Kara’s still smiling, still happy, but she can feel doubt creeping in at the edges. “Who knows if she’ll even show up. She probably got less sleep than I did. And I’m sure she’s got lots of other stuff to do today.”

 

The time spent in between the rest of the team showing up and them all making their way to the hockey rink for their slotted practice time, passes uneventfully. Kara had pretty much convinced herself there was no way Lena Luthor was going to make time to come watch their practice. Any other thought was absurd. 

But she was there all the same. Sitting in the stands at first, and finally noticed by Coach Lane and invited into the box for a better view of the action. 

Apparently nothing was absurd… or impossible.


	2. If I Had My Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena and Sam go for a run and have a chat.
> 
> Kara and Lena meet up again at the practice rink.

**OUT FOR A RUN - Lena**

 

It’s been so nice to have Sam Arias as her coach. In the brief months after dissolving her relationship with her mother, Lena felt lost. She never missed Lillian, that wasn’t it. She felt unmoored, and even if the ocean that was her life seemed calmer, it was still an ocean, and its vastness scared her to death. She needed help focusing. Needed direction. Sam provided those things, along with a kinship and understanding Lena was so desperate for.

Sam had been in her place ten years before; she had competed at the elite level for years. She has tread this path, she knows its struggles, and its pitfalls. Her influence felt more akin to a guidance counselor than taskmaster. And that is exactly what Lena realized she needed. Having a coach that felt like a partner was so transformative. So much of her sport is done alone, isolated out on a broad expanse of ice, balanced on blades while strangers judge her every move.

_ God, Luthor, that’s so dramatic, even for you,  _ she chides herself.

Steady breaths huff out in a fog, hanging heavy in the crisp South Korean air. Sam and Lena take a gentle corner and continue their mid-morning jog, easily keeping pace with each other. Every now and then Sam flashes Lena a  _ look _ , you know, that sort of look someone gives you when they are pretty certain they’ve collected all the clues and are ready to solve a mystery.

Lena is immediately wary. “What?”

“Nothin’.” Sam’s grin grows wide as she turns her gaze forward and focuses further down the street.

“‘ _Nothing_ ’ my ass, Arias.” Lena slows her pace to a brisk walk and rests her hands on her hips. “You’ve been giving me funny looks since we met for breakfast.”

Sam wasn’t prepared for the abrupt stop. She jogs a few steps further, and when she turns back to Lena, her smile is almost nuclear. “I just heard some  _ things _ .”

“ _ Things _ ?” She raises an eyebrow. 

Sam tries to act nonchalant, checking her Fitbit for stats. “Things involving you.”

“Uh huh.” Lena feels her chest get a little tight. She steps closer to Sam, searching for her gaze. 

“You,” Sam repeats, still smiling, “and one extremely hunky hockey player.”

Of course that would be it. She should have known better than to think her chance meeting with Kara would go completely unnoticed, especially after her very public tumble at the opening ceremonies. While a part of her wonders exactly what the rumor mill has churned up, curiosity won’t win out in this moment.

“It’s not what you think.” The winter air is finally starting to press its way past her running gear.

“That is  _ disappointing _ , because here I was  _ hoping _ you might be breaking out of this…” Sam gestures in Lena’s general direction, “hard candy shell, and making a new friend.”

Lena gives her coach a playful look and starts walking back in the direction of the Olympic village.

As they fall back into step, Sam gives Lena a gentle bump with her elbow. “Was the team practice fun to watch?”

“Yeah, it was,” she admits, fighting a blush she can feel warming her cheeks. “And Kara is --”

“Oh!” Sam looks elated. “We’re at first names already?”

Lena ignores her, pushing her thoughts forward. “Kara is… an incredibly gifted athlete, and she’s very nice, and--”

Sam interrupts her, completing her sentence. “And very nice to look at.”

“How would you even know?” Lena barks a little too loudly.

Sam feigns righteous indignation, complete with a hand placed over her heart. “Lena. I am a grown woman fully capable of harnessing the all the arcane powers of Google.” She grips Lena’s elbow, slowing her pace. “You do know she posed for the Sports Illustrated body issue, right?”

As if summoned by some hilarious cosmic force, Lena hears Kara’s voice holler out a greeting from across the street. “Hey, Lena! Hi!”

Sam looks altogether far too pleased.

Lena can’t help but smile as Kara jogs closer, waving sheepishly at the cars that stopped allowing her to dart across the busy street. Her cheeks are a rosey shade of red, and sandy colored hair is swept across her brow, peeking out under a navy USA team beanie. The smile on Kara’s face sends a shockwave of giddy delight through Lena. It’s distracting and profound. She completely forgets her coach is standing right next to her.

“Hi,” Kara says, and then quickly acknowledges the woman next to Lena with a wave. “To both of you.”

“Sam Arias. I’m  _ just _ Lena’s coach.” Her tone is kind, but her  _ ‘just’ _ is very specific.

“Oh. Okay.” Kara quickly turns all her attention back to Lena. “Quick question. Well, two questions, really.”

The full force of those blue eyes is almost too much. Lena stutters a little when she responds. “Y-yes?”

Kara claps her gloves hands together. “First, are you going to be at the practice rink tonight around the same time? And second, are you a vegetarian?”

“Yes,” Lena responds quickly to the first question, but pauses, confused, before answering the second. “And no.”

“Awesome. Well, not that you’re not a vegetarian. That doesn’t matter. I just-- It’s cool. Why would that matter? That’d be--” Kara looks skyward, stopping herself rambling. Her laugh sounds a little nervous, but she seems to regain her composure and push past the awkwardness. “I’ll see you later, yeah? Nice meeting you, Sam!”

Kara is back on the other side of the street before Lena realizes she needs to breathe. This does not go unnoticed by Sam, who is still giving her that same knowing look.

Her shoulders fall. A familiar sense of shame pools in her gut. “Go ahead, do it.”

“Do what?” Sam looks confused.

“Warn me about distractions. Make fun of me because I’m terrible at flirting. Mock me for being an Olympic cliche.”

Lillian never would have allowed this. Hell, Lena had only come out to her mother in the last couple of years, and that hadn’t gone over well at all. But on a whole, her mother had discouraged relationships in general, said they were too cumbersome, too messy. She always insisted Lena had better things to expend her energies on.

It was a lonely existence.

Her new coach considers her options, then shakes her head. “Nope.”

“Why not?” Lena flashes Sam an uncertain look.

“Because happy looks good on you, Luthor.” The taller woman drapes a strong arm across Lena’s shoulders. They walk back to the village together.

  
  
  
  


**PRACTICE RINK - Kara**

  
  


They’ve been skating and talking for over an hour. When Kara showed up, Lena was practicing jumps and transitions from one of her routines. She had watched in awe, dumbstruck by the fluid movements, the unconscious grace. She’d seen her compete before, but watching Lena Luthor skate like this, on dimly lit ice, only the two of them, it’s a far more emotionally affecting experience.

Ever the traitor, it was Kara’s grumbling stomach that pressed her to interrupt Lena’s routine. Alex and Maggie had found this little steamed bun shop near the hockey facility, and had shared their find with the rest of the team. Kara had ran there after practice to grab a selection of buns with various fillings, as well as some ginseng chicken soup in case the buns weren’t quite enough.

Her new friend seems grateful for the snacks. The two of them sit in the bleachers, eating. Sitting next to Lena is almost too much to handle. Kara keeps stealing glances at the her profile, wondering how in the world she ended up in this far off place next to this amazing woman.

“I see you looking at me,” Lena laughs. “You’re not all that sneaky, you know?”

“You’re nice to look at,” Kara says matter-of-factly.

“So are you.” Lena responds, not missing a beat.

It knocks Kara of her game. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t really know how to. She just stares dumbly out at the empty ice. Lena is classically gorgeous, all curves and strong, striking features. She looks like a John Singer Sargent painting. A universally acceptable vision of femininity. No one would doubt it, or challenge it.

It’s not as simple when the script is flipped.

“Did I say something wrong?” Lena asks. “I’m sorry, I thought this was… I thought we were…”

Kara shakes her head and forces a smile. “No. You’re all good. This is good. It’s really nice.”

Her words sound flat. Wrong.  _ Good. Nice _ .  _ Understatements of the year, Danvers. _

Kara puts the lid on her soup and sets it on the concrete step. She leans back, twisting, digging into her bag searching for her bluetooth speaker. She flips through her phone and selects one of her many practice playlists. Music pushes through the speckled mesh of the device. A woman’s voice rings out, crooning softly, beat steady and purposeful, singing about love and longing. The lyrics seem pointed, but given the moment, any song would carry greater weight.

She stands and reaches a hand out to Lena. “Let’s get back to it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I draw and write to music all the time... My playlists are LONG and specific. 
> 
> I have a Lena Luthor playlist that has a song on it by Now, Now called Yours followed by Sylvan Esso's Die Young. That's what came on when I was writing the tail end of the Kara scene and those songs work really well for this scene. 
> 
> I've always been a person who listens to lyrics. Always searching for deeper connection and meaning. I know there are plenty of people who don't do that... and in this case, I think Lena is one of those people. Someone who just hears "music", while Kara feels so exposed for turning on something that SAYS something that feels specific to this moment.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy. I'm going to try my hardest to update once a week.


	3. Another Late Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara is full of surprises.

**THE NEXT TIME WE MET - Lena**

  
  


She can now says she’s been to a women’s hockey game. 

Lena shouted her voice raw cheering on Kara and team against Finland. It was amazing. Sam even joined her for the last period. The action was so fast and disorienting. She has memorized routines and worked to master jump sequences – but she cannot fathom how these women do what they do on the ice. Their reaction times. The reflexes. The sheer muscle memory and deftness of motion.

Watching Kara practice had impressed her.

Watching her complete has set that admiration on an entirely other level.

From what Lena can piece together, the prelim round win over Finland was all but expected. That statistical probability became reality in no way meant the win was easy. The fight was real. There was a give and take. A part of her wished she understood the strategies a little better, because greeting a floppy-haired, freshly showered Kara outside the locker room and stuttering out a lame “Good game” just didn’t feel like enough.

That was the first time Kara had hugged her.

It had been so casual. So effortless. Lena found herself relaxing completely into the embrace, even allowing the taller woman to lift her off the ground ever so slightly.

If she could have, she would have stayed there forever, her arms draped over Kara’s broad shoulders, her body wrapped protectively in those strong arms.

She felt safe.

When they part ways that night, the pressure of Kara’s body against her is at the forefront of Lena’s mind. And sure, it wasn’t they first time she was in Kara’s arms, but it was the first time that contact was initiated on purpose, and not out of some sort of chivalrous reflex.

Kara meant to hug her. She was happy to see her. She meant to hold her like that.

It’s a realization that she doesn’t fully accept the ramifications of until she sees Kara the following evening for their agreed upon practice session.

Kara seems at ease, nothing like the odd energy that was between them a few days ago. Lena chalks that up to her saying the wrong thing. Maybe Kara doesn’t like compliments, or maybe she just didn’t know how to respond.

It’s also totally possible Kara wasn’t into her that way. Gay or not, sometimes people are just outgoing and friendly - it doesn’t always mean they’re interested.

There’s a whoosh of air to her side, and she feels heat near her bare arm.

“Everything okay up there?” Kara asks, falling into an easy rhythm next to her.

Lena considers just asking her.  _ Do you like me? Like, really like me? Am I even your type?  _ And she feels instantly stupid.

“Just a little up in my head.”

Kara shifts, skates biting into the ice. She sprints forward and skates backwards in front of Lena and then breaks off, shouting, “How can I help?”

Lena’s eyebrow rockets up to a sharp peak. She tracks Kara’s movements around the rink, her powerful legs sweeping and flexing. It’s hypnotizing. And then she does what seems to be a perfect bracket turn, ending in a brief spin. The footwork is far more reminiscent of figure skating than hockey, which is curious.

Lena’s heart is beating a little too fast. With so many questions on her mind, she settles on a simple one. “Why didn’t you go practice at the hockey rink that first night?”

Kara doesn’t answer immediately. She seems to be rolling the question around in her mind, considering it from all angles.

She skates closer to Lena. The music changes. Something slower at first, then shifting to a more syncopated, dancy rhythm. The air feels heavier. More combustible.

“You want a real answer?”

“Of course.”

“I missed the clean slate.”

Lena tilts her head to one side, confusion settling on her face.

“Blank ice.” Kara gestures below them. “Hockey rinks have all these marking. Lines, creases, face off circles. They’re all a reminder.”

“A reminder of what?”

Kara grits her teeth. “...promise you won’t laugh?”

“Cross my heart.” Lena draws a quick ‘x’ over her chest.

Kara is smiling on the surface, but there is uncertainty under it all. “I skated when I was a kid.”

“Well, yeah.” Lena gestures at Kara balanced on blades on ice, and unconsciously lets out a brief laugh. Both hands fly up to cover her mouth. She promised not to laugh.

Kara shoots her the most sheepish of looks, then points at Lena’s feet. At her skates.

The realization is slow to dawn. “Oh. You mean figure skating?”

Kara nods. Her cheeks are rosy, and it’s not from the cold. Her eyes crinkle at the edges. She looks embarrassed. “I know, right? Silly, huh.”

“Why would it be silly?” Lena asks.

Kara shrugs, the smile weakens a bit. “I don’t really  _ look _ the part.”

Lena wants to say  _ why should that matter _ , but she’s well aware it does. Perception and presentation – her mother drilled it into her since she was a child. She had to carry herself a specific way to be considered a viable competitor. You wore the sparkly dresses, and you acted like a lady, and you skated at least one routine a season to Swan Lake. It’s just the way things worked.

Lena had always hated it. She hates it a little more now.

“I trained for years. My mom used to cart Alex around to hockey practices and then drop me off at a completely different rink on the other side of town for my classes. I had longer hair then. Glasses, too. Wore the dresses, even though I felt silly in them.”

Lena has a hard time imagining any other version of the woman standing before her. The current manifestation seems so confident, and so attractive.

Kara continues. “I really loved it. It was just me, connecting with a piece of music, and trying to tell a story.”

There’s a lump in Lena’s throat. She can barely swallow. All she can do is look at Kara, this woman she barely knows, who’s trusting her with something true.

They aren’t skating any more. They’ve stopped. They’re just two people standing still in the middle of a rink.

When she can manage, Lena asks, “What happened? Why did you stop?”

“I was getting taller and stronger. Different, you know? I didn’t look like the other girls in class.” Kara chuckles to herself, scruffing her short hair nervously. “I also started noticing  _ exactly _ how pretty girls were. I stopped feeling like I could force myself to belong. My clearest memory was the coach showing us a recording of Gordeeva and Grinkov at Lillehammer and just wishing I could be  _ him _ . Like, still myself, but also him. I didn’t want to be alone out on the ice anymore. I didn’t want to feel like a joke when I put on those costumes. And at some point it was just easier to have Mom drive us to one practice. Hockey was a team thing. Alex was there. I fit in better. I stopped getting weird looks from all the parents. It made more sense.”

They stand there for a few moments, silence filling the air. Lena doesn’t know what to say. Her heart is breaking a little, and she feels sorry, but she doesn’t really know why. It’s probably evident that the moment is a little heavy, because Kara chases a sharp breath with a tight laugh and turns on her heel.

Kara shouts over her shoulder. “Wanna see something cool?”

“Uh– oh.” Lena has to shout her reply given the quick distance Kara puts between them. “Sure!”

She watches the hockey player gather speed with grace. There are some clean step sequences, her skilled footwork weaving a pattern across the ice. The song playing over the bluetooth speaker begins to swell.

At the perfect moment, Kara Danvers pushes off the edge of her hockey skate and executes a single axel.

The jump isn’t perfect. The landing is bobbled and position of Kara’s body is a little tilted, but Lena can only imagine how difficult it must be to get tight rotation in boots that bulky. She can’t help but clap when Kara lands. Her face aching from smiling.

“I still remember some stuff.” Kara crosses her arms over her chest and avoids eye contact even as she skates nearer to Lena. “I’m not very good. Not like you.”

“There are some judges out there who’d tell you I’m not very good either,” Lena counters.

“But you are,” says Kara quickly. “You’re amazing. Especially at World’s last year.”

Her heart catches. She’s never felt so touched. “You watched my World’s performance?”

“I forced my sister to get the extended cable package so I could DVR it. The team had a game that night.” Kara returns to skating lazy circles around Lena. “But yeah. Your free skate was really something. I’m not a big classical music person, but the routine was beautiful.”

“You figure skated, but you don’t like classical? You know it’s like an unwritten rule that you have to skate to Carmen at some point in your career, right?”

“Rules are dumb.”

“So,” Lena moves closer to Kara, summoning all the confidence she can muster. “What would you have rather I skated to?”

Kara does it again, considers her question wholly and completely, except this time she is looking Lena square in the eyes. There’s an adorable crinkle that manifests between her brows. Making a decision, she skates over to the barrier where the speaker is balanced and quickly flips through her phone, eyes squinting, fingers searching. She flashes Lena a smile over her shoulder when she finally selects the song and all at once Lena curses the distance between them.

The distance doesn’t last long.

Kara drifts closer, and a man begins to sing:

 

**_I've been burning, yes, I've been burning_ **

**_Such a burden, this flame on my chest_ **

**_No insurance to pay for the damage_ **

**_Yeah, I've been burning up since you left_ **

 

She reaches out, takes Lena’s hand, and leads her into the first sequence of her World’s routine, but different. It’s augmented through Kara’s lens. 

The music is unfamiliar. A man singing so soulfully of yearning. His words weigh heavy on her heart, and the juxtaposition of elation she feels skating with Kara right next to her is balanced by the melancholy spilling from the small speaker.

They part for Lena’s jump sequences – a double axel, a double toe loop, waltz turns, and finally a double lutz that she lands more cleanly than she ever has before. There is a period where she is just feeling this new music, fitting her old routine into this new space. It’s shocking how well it suits her performance. The essence of her movements is represented in every note.

Strong, warm hands come to rest on her waist. Their proximity is painfully intimate.

The lyrics fade away. Lena’s well aware this is a sad song, but she cannot remember ever feeling so happy. 

She pivots in Kara’s arms, coming to a stop somewhere near the corner of the rink.

Everything she feels could drown her if she isn’t careful.

 

**_Oh, I've been burning up since you left_ **

 

Lena grips the collar of Kara’s shirt with one hand as her other snakes up Kara’s throat and comes to rest at the nape of her neck. The short hair there is soft against Lena’s fingers.

She has never been this bold. Never done anything even remotely close this, but she also has never felt more certain of anything in her life.

Lena kisses Kara, drawing the taller woman down, closer. It’s gentle at first. Timid, maybe. Lena’s a little worried she’s misread the signals again, but then Kara’s hands slip from her waist to the small of her back. She is pulled tighter. Kissed harder.

The world fuzzes out, and all Lena can hear is blood rushing through her veins.

When she finally pulls away, Kara is looking at her with a kind of contentment that Lena desperately wants to become familiar with. She wants to learn to be that still. She wants to feel this safe forever.

Kara’s cheeks are glowing red. The smile that spreads across her lips is electric. “You like the song?”

The laugh Lena lets out is more of a snort. All she can do is nod and press her forehead to Kara’s shoulder.


	4. In For The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Lena connect over take-out.

**AFTER CANADA - Kara**

 

Canada handed them their first loss of the games. It was a rough one, and everybody was affected by it. Coach Lane encouraged the team to shake it off in their own way. For Alex, that meant an evening with Maggie out on the town, blowing off steam at a few of the nearby bars. Kara opted for a solitary night in. She has her best playlist on and a handful of comics she picked up at a corner bookstore, and though she may not be able to read Korean, they’re gorgeous. One of them is about a really excitable cat.She could always finish reading one of the handful of books waiting in her Kindle, or binge watch some Parks and Rec. There were lots of options.

There’s a knock at the door. 

Alex probably forgot her wallet again. 

Kara pops up from her bed, over-sized hooded sweatshirt slipping off her shoulder, and pads across the room. She opens the door before considering she isn’t wearing any pants. Two things strike her instantly: the heady smell of savory food wafting from to-go containers, and Lena Luthor’s green eyes.Both are welcome surprises. 

She can’t help but smile. “I thought you were busy tonight.”

“I got un-busy, and I thought you might be hungry. ” Lena grins, her normally pale cheeks warming up. She looks sheepishly down the hall, shifting side to side on the balls of her feet.Her confidence seems to falter a little. “But if you’ve already eaten… or you have other plans, I can get out of your hair.”

“No. This is awesome. Just… let me put on some pants.” Kara opens the door fully and motions over her shoulder for Lena to enter. She beelines for a discarded pair of joggers tossed across the end of her mattress. When she turns back around, the door is closed and Lena has entered the room, for sure, but her faint blush has now reached a nuclear level. Kara squints, her expression close to a grimace. “Sorry, about that — ” 

“No! It’s okay. Really.” Lena busies herself pulling steaming containers out of a paper bag. She crinkles her nose and flashes Kara a far more confident look, eyes flicking up and down her frame. “It’s not like it wasn’t a nice view.”

_Bold Lena_ is wonderful and full of surprises, Kara concludes. She can feel warmth creeping up her throat, the tips of her ears start to burn. She lets out a stiff sigh and joins Lena near the desk, inspecting the food options.

 

They sit on opposite sides of Kara's bed, eating and bantering, topics of discussion ranging from their drastically different upbringings to favorite television shows. Lena is so damn easy to talk to. Kara feels like she’s known her for years, like they’re building off an established friendship, not carefully creating something from scratch. 

Kara pokes at her ramen searching for specific indiscernible, but tasty veggies. “So… when did you know that you were…”

“A figure skater?” Lena bites her lower lip, eyes sparkling with pride at her own joke. “I’m kidding. You meant, when did I know I was gay? Umm. I think I was 17. There was a girl at school. She played soccer, was openly queer, and she had these muscles that made my brain stop working. You know the ones.” Lena gestures, fingertips tracing parallel lines down her lower stomach. 

Kara lets out a bark of delight. “Yeah, I know what you’re talking about.”

A shy smile, followed by a contented chuckle, Lena pauses, visibly searching for the perfect wording. “She was just so unapologetically her own person. Tough, confident, really hot. I always wanted her notice me the way I noticed her. But I was really nerdy and really sheltered.” 

“Nerdy, huh?” Kara nudges Lena with her foot. 

“Science fair champion three years in a row. I’m…” She averts her eyes and gives a soft smile. “I’m majoring in mechanical engineering with a minor in applied physics.” 

“Wow.” 

“It’s not that impressive, really. My brother is the genius of the family. My mother would be the first one to tell you that. He's the golden boy. I'm just... second best. Or third.” Lena shifts her place on the bed, setting her take-out carton on the floor. When she looks back at Kara, there’s a subtle sadness in her eyes. “What about you? What did you go to school for?”

She wants to ask, to learn more, but she doesn’t want to push the conversation into anything too heavy. This has been so nice, just an easy, breezy conversation with a beautiful woman. A beautiful woman who kissed her the other night. She could get lost in that memory if she lets herself. Kara places her ramen on the windowsill. “I went for hockey. Full ride scholarship. But I fell in love with writing. Investigative journalism, really. I’ve always loved puzzles. Digging for clues. Solving mysteries.”

“Is that why you like me, Kara Danvers?” Lena’s brow furrows. She regards Kara carefully, then changes her focus to the window. “Am I a mystery? Some kind of puzzle to solve?”

“No. Not at all.” She leans forward, searching for Lena’s eyes, trying to gauge if she’s said something wrong. “Why would you think that I’d need to solve you?”

“I don't know." She seems so uncomfortable, but she continues regardless, "I’ve never been good with people. It’s always been hard for me to relate, to connect. I never felt safe, or comfortable enough with myself.” Lena still won’t look Kara in the eye. “I always felt like there must be something wrong with me. Some reason I couldn’t open up. Let people in.”

Kara scoots closer, pushing bedding to the side, feeling a strong need to be closer to this woman, to comfort her in some small way. “That stuff is really hard, Lena. I mean, I feel really lucky that I have a sister like Alex and a whole team of awesome ladies who I can count on. But it hasn’t always been that way. Being vulnerable sucks. Having a hard time with it doesn’t make you a bad person, and it definitely doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. It just means it's something you've got to work at.”

She rests a hand on Lena’s knee. She wants to do more, to wrap herself around her, hold her for as long as she wants. As long as she needs. Lena’s own hand comes to rest atop Kara’s, a thumb gently stroking the back of Kara’s hand. It’s all warmth and tenderness. Such a simple thing, almost more intimate than kissing her at the rink. The tempo of her heartbeat changes, beating a little faster, a little harder.

“I don’t know why it’s not hard with you.” Lena closes the distance between them, her hands reaching up to cup Kara’s face. “I keep thinking how unlikely all this is. I keep waiting for it to not be real. But every time I’m around you I feel… I feel more myself than I ever have before. And you should be a distraction, but you’re not. Being around you, it gives me clarity.”

Her focus is so singular, so intense. No one has ever looked at Kara like this. She doesn’t entirely know how to respond. Under normal circumstances, she’d make a joke, try to break the weight of the moment with levity, but that just doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t seem right, because she feels it, too. Lena’s words echo of Kara’s own heart. 

This isn't a thing Kara Danvers does. 

She doesn’t let herself fall this hard, this fast. 

But she has no choice in this. The whole thing seems predetermined. Inevitable. 

Specific strains of guitar punctuate the moment and Kara doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to do, but she pulls aways, standing slowly. With a measured breath, she reaches out, taking Lena’s hand and pulling the other woman to her feet.

 

_She is something to behold_

_Elegant and bold_

_She is electricity_

_Running through my soul_

 

Maybe it’s a silly impulse, to hear a song and want nothing more than to hold Lena close and dance with her. 

Silly or not, it’s happening. They sway together in the center of the dimly lit room, bodies drawn tight. Lena’s head rests on Kara’s chest, and Kara’s hands splay broad across the span of Lena’s back. It feels perfect.

“Can I stay with you?” Lena’s question is faint, almost lost under the music. “Would that be okay?”

“Yeah,” Kara responds, dumbly. “That’d be nice. I’d like that.”

Kara can feel Lena grip the fabric of her hooded sweatshirt, tension in her body releasing, practically melting into Kara.

“I’d like that, too.” Lena says softly.


	5. Her Body Above Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena is supportive and insistent. 
> 
> Kara can't get Lena off her mind. 
> 
> These two are in such trouble.

**IN YOUR ARMS - Lena**

 

The single bed is so small.

But, like true athletes, they persevere, kissing each other until their lips ache. Clothing becomes too restrictive, and Kara seems to mind being relieved of her hooded sweatshirt about as much as Lena minds her t-shirt and warm-up pants being stripped off.

She feels giddy. A little foolish, maybe. What would Sam think? That this is a little reckless? That she’s being impulsive? Or that this infatuation is simultaneously the most massive of distractions, and exactly what Lena needs right now? Sam’s supportive. She gets how lonely Lena’s life has been lately. It’s been so long time since she’s had this much uninterrupted time to just drink another woman in.

Kara is quick to check in when Lena drifts away, adjusting and searching for consent.

And, God, is Lena willing to give her all the permission. Over and over again, whatever Kara wants. 

Which she realizes might make her appear desperate.

She’s not.

Lena Luthor has had  _ flings _ . She’s somewhat of a master of discreet hookups. Most of the women were from outside the figure skating competition circle, or, if they’re fellow skaters, they were too preoccupied with their careers and image to get past anything more than ‘extremely  _ brief’ _ and ‘intensely  _ physical’ _ . It’s been enough to get her by. Relationships can get messy. Or so she’s heard. All her previous encounters went unnoticed, and even if her former coach have noticed, she never commented. There was no need to draw attention to yet another way Lena was different from the rest of her family.

And though those experiences had been productive, they were not particularly meaningful. There was no connection, no real heat. That’s what makes this thing with Kara so different. What she is feeling in this moment is far deeper, more intoxicating. More than basic laws of attraction. 

Kara has these strong hands, and such deliciously warm skin. Her hot kisses terminate in a joyful smile, a smile Lena can feel pressed against every inch of her body as Kara kisses her way down her back. Touch has never felt so electric.

She’s never felt valued like this before. Never felt this cared for. 

They are tangled up in one another. All breath and desire. 

The air feels heavy, weighing down on them like a blanket. 

Sense is fleeting. 

All she wants is for time to stop so she can stay like this forever.

 

Hours later, Kara’s music has been playing low the whole time, setting the tone, underpinning their encounter, scoring it like a film. None of the songs are familiar. Lena has never been one for popular music. It was a cultural touchstone that missed her, or more specifically, one her mother discouraged her from enjoying.  _ Why waste your time listening to something you can’t even use for a routine? Familiarize yourself with the classics, Lena. One day you’ll thank me for culturing you properly.  _ So laying in bed, spent and sweaty next to a hot hockey player in nothing but a Team USA zip-up hoodie, listening to an ever flowing stream of pop songs feels decadent.

Every now and then Kara will pause her exploration of Lena’s body to tap out a rhythm against her. She hums refrains softly, breath warm against Lena’s ear. 

Kara kisses the back of Lena’s neck, lips pressed close, she sings in a low, raspy voice. There’s something so intimate about this kind of contact. And though she loves being enveloped by this woman, Lena wants to see her, wants to look her in the eyes, know she’s real.

She adjusts her position inelegantly, but the comforter and sheets don’t cooperate. Kara scoots back awkwardly, trying to give Lena room to move. This would be a lot easier if…

One hand plants next to Kara’s head, and Lena throws her leg over Kara’s core. She straddles the other woman, pressing herself into a more upright position. The oversized sweatshirt gapes, cool zipper shifting against her skin. The garment slips to one side, falling from her bare shoulder, exposing the full curve of her breasts. A part of her recognizes how good she must look in this moment - not out of arrogance, but because Kara’s expression is priceless.

“Wow,” she manages, breathless.

Lena smiles, biting her lower lip. “Hi.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this,” Kara cocks her head to one side. “But you’re gorgeous.” 

“You’re too kind.”

A new song comes on and Kara squirms under Lena, twisting, reaching for her phone perched on the nearby windowsill. “Oh! This one is so good. Here, I’ll turn it up. You’ve gotta listen to it.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

“No. I mean, really listen to it.”

She doesn’t really know what Kara means, but she adjusts her position so Kara can sit up. The volume increases. Lyrics have always seemed distracting, but these seem to carry more weight, she watches Kara mouth along soundlessly, eyes closed, happily vulnerable, and she finally listens. Something is familiar. She heard this the night they met. It was one of the songs that played when she walked into the rink. 

A vivid memory of Kara’s form and grace comes rushing back. 

 

_ I’ve been waiting for so long _

_ For you to come my way _

_ Now I can’t wait another day… _

 

“Oh, Kara…”

She breaks from her animated lip sync and regards Lena with bright eyes. “You like it?”

“So much.”

“It’s good, right? The rhythm is so perfect. The timing. The progression. Good highs and lows.” Kara loses herself in the song for a moment, speaking her next words softly. “I always wished I could skate to this.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Well, I mean, I play hockey? And I don’t… it’s like not like there’s any point in me making some kind of official  _ routine _ .” Kara forms air quotes as she speaks the last word. She goes from jovial to extremely sheepish in seconds. “I… uh. I don’t know. I always imagine it as a pairs skate anyway. So, besides being kinda silly, it’s not even remotely rational as far as goals go, ya know?”

“It’s not silly.”

Kara lets out a stiff laugh, “Of course it is.”

Lena pushes off the bed with uncoordinated but determined force, shedding Kara’s hoodie. She finds her warm-up pants in the shadows of the dimly lit room and slips them on, followed by her bra, and finally her t-shirt. 

Kara scoots to the edge of the bed, her face a mess of confusion and concern. “Did I say something wrong?”

Lena scoops up Kara’s joggers and unceremoniously tosses them in her direction, followed soon by her team sweatshirt. “Get dressed. We’re going out.”

The confusion is still there, but Kara does as directed.

Lena gathers a few important items; the bluetooth speaker, a phone charger that’s laying on the small desk, Kara’s phone. She is in need another layer, so she dips down and plucks a flannel from a bag near Kara’s bed. Slipping it on, Lena checks over her shoulder for permission. She takes the radiant blush of Kara’s cheeks as a resounding _ “By all means, please borrow that.” _

  
  
  


**I GET NO SLEEP - Kara**

  
  
  


“I need you to focus up, Danvers.” Coach Lane taps Kara’s helmet with her clipboard when she plops on the bench. 

This is just a scrimmage game. They’re in the semi-finals, scheduled to play a team they’ve already bested, but that doesn’t mean Kara can be this sloppy. 

Her defense is off. Her reaction time is slow.

Her head is somewhere else, remembering her hands all over Lena’s body, gripping her, lifting her, moving with her with such gentle ease. She had always wondered what it was like to skate pairs, and now she has some idea. And even though they didn’t set foot on the ice last night, opting instead to spend all night dancing in the practice studio, the whole experience was exhilarating. It was honestly the closest she’s ever felt to another person, the most connected.

Lena listened to her. They worked so well together, tossing out ideas and running through steps. It wasn’t shocking that Lena was actually a very understanding and patient coach, even if her efforts, in this case, would be fruitless.  

Maggie kicks at Kara’s boot. “Earth to Kara Danvers? You there?”

Kara grabs a water bottle from under the bench. “I’m here.”

“Of course you are, Sunshine.” Maggie throws an arm around Kara’s shoulders and gives her a sturdy hug. “Everything okay? You seem a little rusty out there.”

“Just a little tired.”

“Too much Netflix last night?” Maggie chides. 

“Yeah.” Kara taps her stick against the barrier and bites her lip. “Something like that.”

 

Practice wraps, Coach Lane runs through notes and hands out her usual complements and critiques, then releases the team to the locker room. 

Kara is quick to strip off her gear and get to the showers, eager for scalding hot water to wash away the haze of exhaustion that has settled on her. The remedy is not as effective as she’d like. 

If anything the heat takes her back to last night; surprise visits, take-out food, talking for hours, listening to music… Lena Luthor straddling her, kissing her, touching her. 

That radiant smile. Green eyes trained on Kara, trusting her, encouraging her. She’s stuck on those memories, her record scuffed, speakers popping, needle bumping, insistently repeating the way last night’s intimacy made her feel. 

All her movements are rote. Toweling off. Dressing. Leaning down to tie her sneakers. She’s on serious autopilot, unaware of the conversations going on around her.

“Kara? You coming with or what?” Alex shouts from the threshold of the locker room. 

“Yeah!” she shouts back. Grabbing her hoodie from her gear bag. “Be right there, Alex!”

As she slips the sweatshirt on she becomes highly aware of the subtle smell of a specific perfume, clean and floral, nothing Kara would wear. 

_ Shit _ . 

She has it bad. 

  
  
  


**YOU DO IT FOR ME - Lena**

  
  
  


She’s gliding through transitions. She’s hitting every jump combination. This practice is flying by. The rink is full of competitors, some hyper focused, others chatting and laughing. Lena would typically be more serious, expression carved out of stone, precision in her every move. But things are changing. Or at least, they feel like they are.

By the time Lena woke up this morning, Kara had gifted her with a streaming music subscription and sent her the playlist from the night before.

It’s the only thing she’s been listening to all day, wireless headphones in, music pulsing in her ears.

Now she can hear all the things she’s missed. It’s not just lyrics and words - Kara’s personality shines through in every song, a fact that makes the never ending stream of music all the more endearing.

She sees movement from the barrier wall. Sam is there waving, a smile on her face and a bottle of water in each hand. Lena pivots, body still unconsciously moving with the music. She skates towards her coach, plucking her earbuds out as she does. 

“You look great out there!” Sam hands Lena a bottle of water and gives her a broad smile. “Really relaxed.”

“I feel good,” Lena says, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her glove. She leans against the padded barrier. 

“How was your date last night?” She playfully pokes at Lena's forearm.

“It wasn’t really a date.”

Sam flashes her a skeptical look, eyebrows raised high. 

She feels her cheeks heat up. It's unconscious, but so honest. “It was nice.”

“Nice?” Sam screws the cap back on her water bottle. “I’m gonna need a little more than that, champ.”

“Kara’s... um… a really good kisser. And her hands are…” Lena takes an involuntary deep breath before continuing. “So good.”

“Good. So good. You realize those words are not in the least bit descriptive or evocative?” Sam nabs Lena’s bottle and grins. “We’re going to have to work on your vocabulary, Luthor.”

“I am so sorry to disappoint, _Coach_.” Lena flashes Sam a playful smile and leans in close, her voice a whisper. “I didn’t really think this was the time or place to be going into explicit detail about the sex I had last night.”

“If not now,” Sam sighs, “Then when?”

“I don’t know.” Lena pushes off the wall and skates backwards, her hips rocking side to side. “Maybe never?”

“Oh, come on, Lena!” Sam shouts after her.

Lena reinserts her earbuds, welcoming the music that has been thrumming softly through the tiny speakers draped around her neck. As the distance between them increases, Sam keeps talking, possibly chiding, possibly pleading, but Lena can’t tell. She can’t hear a word of it. She side-steps an incoming French skater and points to her ears, mouthing  _ Sorry. I can’t hear you.  _ Sam flashes her a dubious glare then retreats to the stands.

Lena turns away from her friend and coach, allowing herself to be completely flooded by the memory of Kara’s body against hers. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've always loved the olympics... So writing this has been really fun. 
> 
> For anyone who might be interested, you can follow the below link to see the fan art I drew proceeding this fic. 
> 
> https://foleypdx.tumblr.com/post/170998297022/lena-kara-olympic-au-i-have-such-a-clear
> 
> Again. Thanks for reading.


End file.
